


Two By Two

by toesohnoes



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Drinking, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a vampire working in the ARC puts Connor on edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two By Two

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of round four of Five Acts.

Connor stares at his computer screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard, and tries to pretend that he isn't aware of the intensity of Becker's eyes. The skin on the back of his neck is crawling, and he's overly-aware of every pump of his heart. It's as loud as a drum in the empty ARC.

Swallowing, Connor hopes he doesn't look as scared as he feels.

Not that it matters. Vampires can smell it anyway.

"Have you fed today?" he asks. He doesn't manage to sound half as casual as he means to.

Behind him, he hears Becker shift on his feet. "Are you worried I'm going to need a snack?"

There is really no need for him to sound quite that amused. It's a legitimate enquiry when working with vampires.

"Well?" Connor asks. "Are you?"

Becker blurs closer to him, supernatural speed and agility, to place a hand on Connor's shoulder. Connor can't stop himself from jumping. "Don't worry," Becker says. "I'll try to restrain myself."

Becker's a friend, as far as these things go, and Connor should trust him, but when he looks up Becker's eyes are dark and hungry and he's close, so close, and --

And the anomaly detector is going off, a loud siren ringing and blasting through the ARC. Connor looks away from Becker abruptly, his fingers hammering on the keyboard as he tries to find out where to send the team this time: ready to take on whatever comes through the portals, demon, dragon or demi-god.

*

There's blood; there's always blood. Crouched behind a car for cover, Connor can hear Becker trying to restrain his groans of pain. The world shakes with every step of the creature, and Connor has to hope that Danny and the others will be able to handle it.

"C'mon, Becker, hold on," Connor says.

He's not sure how you perform first aid on a vampire, but Becker's skin is colder than usual and there is a lot of blood and he isn't healing like he usually would. The demon's claws had swiped for him, cutting straight through his uniformed protection. Now his jaw is clenched, but it isn't enough to hold back his pain.

"Becker," Connor insists. It's enough to make Becker look at him, his eyes almost completely black. "Tell me what to do."

Because he knows, he thinks he knows. He also knows that Danny would tell him it's a stupid idea.

"Connor," Becker says, but nothing more comes out. He wheezes weakly, even if he shouldn't need to breathe.

Connor doesn't pretend that he's not scared, because he is, he's freaking terrified, but the team needs Becker - and he does too. Scary, quiet, protective Becker, who finds him so inappropriately amusing and who is always there to watch his back. Becker, who won't talk about his past and who fights the dangerous creatures that come through the anomalies with more courage and skill than any of the rest of the team.

Swallowing, Connor holds his arm out. "Will it help?" he asks. Blood is still flowing freely from Becker's wound.

Becker doesn't answer him, but his hands wrap firmly around Connor's arm, closing around it like a lock. With a firm yank, he pulls Connor towards him with supernatural strength, pulling Connor off balance.

Becker's fangs burst free and moments later there is a sharp burst of pain in his arm, more intense than he could have imagined, and the blood runs freely. Becker groans against his arm, and his tongue starts to lap against Connor's skin.

Connor knows that some people are into vampires that way. He knows that there are bars where you can go and be fed on, and he knows that people become addicted. He's never understood it, before.

But now, with the dependent way that Becker sucks on his arm, as if he's the only important thing in the entire universe, Connor thinks he's starting to understand. His arm aches, but he can't look away. Droplets of blood splash onto the road beneath them, but Becker catches everything else.

Connor feels him getting stronger and sees his expression becoming more alert, but neither one of them makes a move to stop this. He watches Becker as if he's never seen anything more fascinating before; Connor's lips are parted and he's hard inside his jeans, ridiculously so. He's never wanted anything this badly.

"Alright then, boys," Danny says behind them, an unwanted interruption. "Show's over."

Becker's fangs retract, but his lips nuzzle for a lingering moment against the still-bleeding wound on Connor's arm.

"Becker, are you okay?" Danny checks.

Becker pulls back and nods, looking down to investigate his slashed stomach. "I'm healed," he says. His mouth is stained with blood like lipstick, but it coats his chin as well. Messy.

Connor presses his hand against his wrist as he waits for the bleeding to stop, and he nods with a shaky smile when Danny asks if he's alright as well. He doesn't think he is, not really, but it's nothing to do with the bite on his arm. It's everything to do with the erection in his jeans, and how badly he wants to ask Becker to bite him all over again.

*

Becker avoids him once they're back at the ARC. Connor knows that it must be on purpose. Usually, Becker lurks near the computers or the lab even when there's nothing for him to do there, always ready to spring into action. Now, there's no sign of him. A quick check on the computer says that he's in the gym.

Connor could go and see him.

On the other hand, that just sounds like the kind of thing that would be a terrible, bad, no-good idea. If Becker is avoiding him, he probably has a very good reason for doing so. Connor looks down at his bandaged arm. Yes, very good reason.

He suffers through his shift without a word of complaint, although the others must know that something is up. Rather than giving them bright smiles and geeky references, there are one-word answers and confused frowns.

"Connor," Danny says, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Becker is fine. Everyone's fine. If you want to go home early, I'll understand."

It's tempting, incredibly tempting, but Connor shakes his head.

He needs to stay late.

He needs to wait until he can catch Becker alone.

*

He's napping in the staff room when Becker's cold hand on his upper arm wakes him up. Beneath bleary lashes, he blinks his eyes open and squints at Becker.

"Your shift ended an hour ago," Becker tells him.

Connor's attention shifts drowsily to the clock on the wall and back. "I was waiting for you."

He catches the way that Becker's gaze drops down to the bandage on his wrist. "Did I hurt you?" he asks.

And that really is a stupid question. "Yes," Connor says. "Of course it hurt. But I'm fine."

Becker flinches as if Connor had decided to physically strike him. That had never been his intention.

"It's okay," he amends. He pushes himself to sit upright on the couch; this really feels like something he ought to be at least vertical for. "It was - it was more than okay, I mean. I think I liked it."

Becker's eyes don't waver from his own. It's impossible to look away, even when they are brown instead of black and human instead of vamp. Connor swallows. His throat aches for no reason. "There are places you could go," Becker says. "If you want someone to bite you, you'll find no shortage of takers."

Connor knows that - he'd have to ask around and dig deep, but he's already got one foot in the underworld by working with the ARC. Jumping the rest of the way wouldn't be too hard.

"That's not what I'm saying," he points out. He thinks that Becker knows that; he thinks that sometimes he decides not to understand. "I don't want just anyone to drink from me."

Becker becomes very still, unnaturally so. It makes his face seem older, paler; less than human, more than it, it's hard to tell. The hairs on the back of Connor's arms stand up and his palms itch inside his fingerless gloves, but he holds his grown. He's faced down hell-beasts and tentacle-monsters. This is no different.

"Are you sure about that?" Becker asks - his voice is deeper, darker, and nothing like what Connor is used to hearing from him. It sounds like dry ice, freezing anything it touches.

Connor gives a crooked smile, and doesn't back down. "I'm sure," he says.

Everyone in the ARC tends to view him as an impulsive kid, as if he's a puppy they accidentally let wander in after them. They forget that he and Abby were on the scene long before any of them were part of the equation. He knows what they're doing, what they're up against; most importantly, he knows exactly what Becker is - and he doesn't care.

Becker tilts his head to the side, and all at once the room seems warmer. He looks more like himself again, less like the dead, and he reaches out to help Connor off of the couch, as if he is a frail Victorian lady. "If you're serious about this, I have one rule," Becker says sternly.

Eyes narrowing, Connor asks, "What's that?" He doesn't pull his hands away from Becker's, even once he's on his feet.

"You have to take me out for a drink first," Becker says. "The beer kind, not the blood one."

His eyes are bright and his smile is rare, so Connor finds himself grinning in delight. "Sounds like a fair deal to me," he says, before he bites the bullet and takes his vampire out to the pub.


End file.
